It's Not Real

Chapter Twenty Four

"You didn't have to come at this time, you know?" She soothed the back of his neck under his coat collar as he bent down to look in the fridge, she couldn't resist. "I do appreciate it, though. I haven't stopped all day."

It was currently just gone eleven at night and Eve was only now managing to get some food into her system. She was tempted to skip her break altogether as her shift was due to end at two, but when her husband turned up with an excited little smile to spend some time with her, she couldn't refuse.

"Why wouldn't I come? I wasn't going to be sleeping anyway, especially not without you there. I've barely seen you today," Sherlock reached over and took a bottle of Cherry Pepsi and an apple juice from the fridge, setting them on her tray. "My case took longer than expected and you've been on shift since two. I hope you don't have another twelve hour shift for a while."

She shrugged. "Someone has to take them."

"Doesn't mean it always has to be you. You've been doing back to backs, you're exhausted."

"Sherlock, you've barely slept in three days–"

He frowned. "Do I look tired?"

He didn't. He still looked pretty wired from his case that had dragged him to Esher and back everyday for five days. Murderous old lady, it turns out. He'd promised to fill her in on all the details once they'd settled at a table.

"You look quite energetic, actually."

"Exactly." He turned to look at the options on the hot counter. "What do you fancy? The fish doesn't look great. Maybe play it safe and get the shepherds pie."

"Sure, if that's what you want." She knew he was starving, wasn't like he'd eaten much the past week. "You order that and I'll grab some crisps, you're bound to eat them."

She walked to the end of the shelf and grabbed two packets of cheese and onion, knowing that Sherlock is likely to eat both. He actually loved food and enjoyed eating, despite what he let people believe.

Sherlock was waiting for her at the till, unable to pay without her staff ID, and apparently chatting away to Jean who works in the kitchens. Sherlock meets Eve at work so often now he's actually taken quite fondly to the older lady who usually gives him extra biscuits.

"Hey," She unclipped her badge from her scrubs and swiped it across the scanner. "Have I got enough on there to cover this?"

"Yeah, yeah. Plenty on there."

"Plenty?"

Jean nodded. "Nearly sixty bob on there, lovey."

Eve immediately turned to Sherlock, eyes narrowed.

"What? I use the balance on that thing almost as much as you." He put his hands up. "Was being helpful."

"I'm not annoyed about you putting money on there, we share a bank account. I'm more frustrated that you logged into my staff profile without asking."

Sherlock pouts. "I was being helpful."

"You're a nightmare, come on. Thanks, Jean."

She picked up the tray while he walked behind her, hand hovering by the small of her back. "You're not actually cross?"

She scoffed, leaning back to kiss his cheek. "I'm starving, you're starving, walk quicker."

Evelyn was leading the way to their usual table in the corner, but Sherlock stopped, his ears pricked as someone approached them. "Wait," he said, turning on his heel and stepping between the new comer and his wife. Then he saw who it was. "Oh for goodness sake. What do you want?"